Ghost
by ImaginaryEngineer
Summary: What hurts the most is that what we want is something which we used to have.


Also found at my livejournal (hoy_po). Leave a note if you want, or a critical review.

**GHOST**

_By: Imaginary Engineer_

* * *

The streets of Lima have never been more joyful. Snows covered houses, snowmen sprouting like mushrooms on front lawns, to each their own individual families, houses and even clothing, if they be lucky. Children's laughter echoed in the atmosphere despite the increased warnings of the neighbors.

That day, Santana had decided to go home early. She quickly passed by all the running toddlers and even the adrenaline injected teens caught in the act of playing ding dong ditch. As she opened the front door of her house, she went straight to her quarters.

Her room was posted with pink patterned wallpaper, the corners still properly attached. All of her paraphernalia are neatly tucked away into their respective drawers and closets. Pictures of her achievements were placed on the shelf opposite her door, whilst pictures of her and her fellow cheerleaders and classmates were strategically placed at the back the trophies, medals and certificates she had won.

Her red knapsack, however, spilled most of her school things beside her bed all over her red rug. Pink art paper covered notebooks were slightly opened, the pages already tapered. Books, also covered with the same material, were neatly tucked into her bag, their pages a little bit torn and the corners already a bit bended. All seemed to be kept properly, except for the history book, whose pages are already yellow and brittle and its paragraphs all tainted with neon pink or yellow highlighter marks.

Santana Lopez was lying down on her bed, her frilly, lavender comforter already rumpled from her form. Her left sneaker was conveniently left on the floor and her right sneak somewhere caught between her study table and her bookshelf. Legs sprawled out over the bed, not acknowledging the probability that someone would go in. Her hair was already a mess, but she refused to let her pony go.

The notepad on her lap was placed on her lap as she was comfortably lying down. Currently, she -was- writing an essay on the importance of Learning Spanish. Circles and stick drawings littered her notepad, random phrases like "-Crazy-" and "-monster-" pointed out to a Rachel Berry caricature, a complete replica, she thought, with gigantic eyes and a black hole for a mouth.

In the course of her train of thought, she heard her phone go off. She tried her best to focus more on what she was doing. She tried creating a new doodle, one which had a slightly bigger head than her former drawing, but had less information written on its face. The word clueless came conveniently came to mind when she started filling in her masterpieces' eyebrows.

Her cellphone beeped a second time. Her eyes, ripping away from her work, bore into the phone placed on her drawer. Finally giving in to curiosity, she set her notepad aside and made her way to her dresser.

She picked up her phone and read the message sent by Brittany Pierce.

**-Y u not in Glee?-**

Avoiding Glee practice today was the lesser evil in her case. She wasn't sure if it was that time of month that she'd developed these recent fatal feelings. It was troubling her because this emotion has surpassed her irritation with -Berry's- being. It bothered her so much when she felt the urge to -accidentally- push Artie into the piano or wheel him off the stage, especially when he has done nothing to intimidate her.

_I'm not feeling well_

_I've got a ton of school work to do._

_I'm grounded._

are a few of the replies which she has thought off sending back. She couldn't use the first one, Brittany would come rushing over. Although her best friend is one egg short of the dozen, she instantly knew when and when not Santana is actually sick. Not necessarily by looking at her vital signs. -_It's because I've got you memorized silly_-, from the words of Brittany herself.

School work was never Santana's cup of tea, but she was never bothered by it. It wouldn't be believable enough. And her being grounded was far from credible.

She replied to only thing which seemed the most normal.

**-Just didn't feel like it.-**

* * *

The sound of pebbles trying to break her window woke her up. The moon light softly illuminated her room; the only thing she could see clearly was the foot of her bed. Scratching her head, she pulled her ponytail letting her hair down, her scowl not leaving her face.

Those incessant pebbles had driven her out of her trance. Once she was no longer groggy, she could hear her name being called out.

"San!"

Her heart leapt upon recognizing the voice. She peeked out her window and saw Brittany waving at her with an ecstatic form. Her hair glistening in the night and her angel blue eyes made her no less than perfect in Santana's eyes. Santana had thought the night came to conceal things, but the moon beams did no less than exaggerate Brittany's porcelain skin caressing each and every dance formed muscle she had.

Her hand quickly wiped the side of her lips before answering back. A "hey" came out in a husky tone.

"Sorry I had to wake you. Can I come up?"

Santana opened her window slightly, Brittany thrilled as she hurriedly made use of the Lopez's front lawn tree to haul her up. She treads skillfully on the branch which leads to the front of Santana's room. As she landed on the floor, Santana had just flicked the lights open.

"You're reports over there," pointing towards the 5 page thick mess on her table. She'd known Brittany enough to copy her handwriting to almost every detail.

After throwing her coat on the side of Santana's room, Brittany launched herself into Santana's bed, wrapping herself in the comforter. Santana smiled at Brittany's action, reminding Brittany that they were already in High School and exclaimed that what she did was childish.

"But I love the smell of Santana. It makes me think of ducks and rainbows and candies!"

The Latina shook her head. It relieved her that someone still found the sweet, chocolate center inside a thick coat of raging, self-centered bitch. Still, it was hard to find the logic behind the similarity of ducks and herself.

Santana stayed in her position near the light switch, waving her hand towards the report signifying Brittany that might as well get her report and leave.

"That's not the reason I came." She hugged Santana's pillow, tapping the space beside her, motioning the Latina to position herself beside her. She slowly proceeded towards the empty space, asking what other possible reason the blonde had decided to bother her.

"What's wrong San?" Santana cursed those lips, those eyes, those emotions which she felt. She stopped half way through her walk and stood there dumb struck. She claims she doesn't know what Brittany's talking about, she's been fine like before and nothing is wrong with her current state of mind.

"You're not answering my question San." This time, her tone was a lot more asserting than it was concerned. Santana's brown orbs met Brittany's blue ones for the first time tonight. She froze all over, waiting in vain for the next statement Brittany was about to let go.

"Did Artie take away your Breadsticks Privileges?"

Question marks were written all over the Latina's face, the word "WUHT?" was the only thing which flashed through her mind. "I overheard Mercedes saying that Artie took your most prized possession."

She was able to breathe again. Eyes found its way towards the light, giggles drowned out the shame hidden well behind well-crafted fantasies and formulated dreams.

"I'm not smart. I know that. But, I know you San." She pointed out. She left the pillow on the bed, slowly made her way towards Santana. Arms wrapped around Santana, long fingers entangled themselves in her black tresses.

Santana, acting on instinct, placed her head on the crook or Brittany's neck. She closed her eyes, not uttering a sound. She leaned into Brittany, her hands dangling on the sides as Brittany slowly swayed side by side as if trying to lull Santana into slumber. Santana, on the other hand, didn't mind, she was too lost into Brittany to even care about the swaying motion.

"I've always got you, San. Even if you think I don't." She let go, her long fingers lost in the Latina's black tresses. They found themselves absorbed in the silence as their eyes spoke unaddressed, untouched emotions.

After a few moments, blue eyes strayed from brown as it landed on the electronic clock mounted on the wall. "Oh no. I'm late. I'm meeting Artie's parents for dinner."

Stifling a scowl, or let alone, a smart ass remark was the most difficult thing Santana has done. A million of retorts went through her brain, so many negative facial expressions raced through her mind. All of which were never even released.

Her face let out a most endearing smile. "Alright. I'll be seeing you," waving goodbye to Brittany. The blonde placed a peck on the Latinas cheek. She then walked towards Santana's window and leapt towards the branch.

Once she reached the ground, Brittany called out Santana's name. "No use hiding stuff from me! I've got you memorized, silly!" She then dashed off towards then end of the street, Santana's eyes glued onto her best friend until she was no longer in sight.

"Not entirely." She mumbled. She closed the window and turned off the lights. At last, Santana lay down on the ghost Brittany left behind; enjoying the little she has of what once was a reality.


End file.
